


You're right

by NamparaMyHome (Cormelas)



Series: Betwixt [7]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: (1x03), F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4395698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cormelas/pseuds/NamparaMyHome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re right; you can no longer be my servant.”  </p><p>Ross looked away from the face that had paled at his words.  He steeled himself by biting his bottom lip, took a deep breath and then turned back toward Demelza.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're right

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the estate of Winston Graham, various publishers including but not limited to Pan Macmillan and the BBC.
> 
> Notes: The story occurs between the scenes of the Poldark 2015 episodes as aired on the PBS US broadcasts, which are disappointingly shorter than the BBC episodes. I have not read the books, nor do I know what happens in future episodes when the B/TWS are written. My apologies for inaccuracies based on later canon.

“You’re right; you can no longer be my servant.”

Ross looked away from the face that had paled at his words. He steeled himself by biting his bottom lip, took a deep breath and then turned back toward Demelza.

“But I must still ask you to stay,” he said as he swung down off his horse. “By your own choice,” he continued, as he strode toward her. She watched breathlessly as he closed the gap between them. When he was still one stride away, he looked down at her quivering lips and searching eyes. He then finished his request - “As my wife.”

Ross dropped to one knee and took Demelza’s hands in his.

“Demelza Carne, will you marry me?” he asked with a gentle smile coming to his face.

Demelza’s heart lept in her chest, her right hand drawing to her mouth to cover her quiver, while he held a tight grip on her left.

“Oh, Mr. Ross, sir, I …”

“Ross…” he said, barely above a whisper, through dried lips and throat that had suddenly lost all moisture as he waited for her to reply. “Please call me Ross.” And he grinned.

Demelza saw Ross in a new light. Not clouded with any pretense or formality. Not even in the light of an awestruck servant girl stealing views of her handsome master. It was as if they were meeting for the first time, all over again. She saw his face beam with a joy she herself felt when seeing his. This was real. This was his soul he was baring to her.

She reached down and replaced the lock of his hair that had blown across his forehead amid its brethren of raven curls, caressing his cheek and tracing his scar with her forefinger. She inhaled as a tear leaked from her eye and ran down her cheek.

“Yes.” Demelza whispered breathlessly.

“Yes, what?” Ross said as he cocked his right temple toward her with his eyebrow raised. “Yes you will marry me or yes you will call me Ross?”

“Yes, Ross, I will marry you.”

He sprung to his feet, catching her in his arms and throwing her above his head. She squealed with delight as he brought her down into his arms and spun them both around and around before setting her back down on the ground.

“Yes!” he agreed, holding her tight. “We will marry.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ross saw a figure walking toward them from the other side of the moor. He was wearing unfamiliar clothes. “Now who do we have here?” he quipped.

Demelza turned over her shoulder, tightening at the thought of who she knew it had to be. “My father.”

Ross reflexively pulled Demelza close and balled a fist with his right hand.

Demelza continued, “He came yesterday and said he would be back to fetch me home, to remove me from the temptation and sin of this place. He believed what be said about us was true. But it wasn’t. And now it is.” She began to cry.

“Well then, he should be glad to hear that I will be making an honorable woman of you.” He winked. He was too giddy to allow this moment to be ruined.

“Demelza!” called her father. “Are you ready to return with me?”

“My good fellow, Mr. Carne,” started Ross before Demelza could answer. “You have come upon a most joyous occasion. Your Demelza has agreed to do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

Tom Carne stopped in his tracks, a decent distance still remaining between the couple and himself.

“Your wife?” he sputtered. “But she told me yesterday there was nothing between ye. God have mercy if you were lying to me Demelza!” Carne lurched forward as if to release his wrath on Demelza. She shrunk into Ross’s protective grasp.

“Now see here!” Ross protested. “There is no cause for threats or fists, as I assure you on my honor as master of Nampara that what Demelza said to you yesterday was true. She has been a loyal and hard-working servant, and knew her place. Having shared my feelings for her, she was given the choice of departing my service or remaining as my wife. I believe she has made the wise choice and has made me a lucky man.” Ross was gleeful and reveling in his speech. Demelza stayed quiet and let Ross do the talking.

“It would be custom in Cornwall to ask a gentleman for his daughter’s hand in marriage. However, as I see no gentlemen here, myself included - as I will now be an outcast from high society and a black sheep to my relations, I will only ask that you wish us no harm. Now we must bid you leave as we have a wedding to plan.”

And with that, Ross turned and guided Demelza back to his horse, leaving Tom Carne staring agape. He had lost to the daring Captain Poldark, again.

Ross lifted Demelza onto the back of the horse, and then climbed into the saddle behind her. Immediately he felt her melt into his body, nuzzling her head under his chin. She was like butter melting on warm bread. So different a feeling from how stiffly they both previously sat on horseback together. He kissed the top of her head and caressed her cheek.

“Let’s go home” she said, with a heavy emphasis on the word “home” that comforted Ross, who felt that he now truly had a home.

 

They rode along silently at first, lost in their thoughts and not wishing to break the magic spell. Ross now realized why Demelza had come to him after he had told her to go to bed. She feared her father was going to take her away from him, and with Ross’s hollow threat to send her back to Tom Carne himself, she must have felt that it was the last chance she might ever have to let Ross know that she felt things for him, too.

She had knocked at his bed chamber door while he was reliving their kiss in his mind and trying desperately to find a way to not want it to happen again. But it was useless. He could not reason there was a way for the feelings that their kiss had stirred inside him to be dismissed or refused.   She was not going to let him ponder the matter any longer. Ross saw through her excuse of needing assistance in unfastening the dress. He had wanted her to take it off and now she was compelling him to do just that. He had no control of what was to come – this was entirely Demelza’s decision. His desire was unquenchable upon her opening his door.

“You know what people say of us?” Ross whispered on the back of her neck.

“Yes,” Demelza replied.

“If we behave like this, it will be true.” He swallowed hard to control his racing heart.

“Then let it be true.”

Truth. That was what their uniting had been - the truth of themselves each wanting the other's happiness. Ross was evermore sure of his latest split moment decision, and never so glad in his life as to have her accept.

When the horse finally passed the gate of the garden, the sun had set. The house was mostly dark, but Jud and Prudie were still awake. Ross giddily dismounted and slowly let Demelza down, where he kissed her deeply. They entered the house by the kitchen door and found Jud and Prudie attempting to look otherwise uninterested.

“We thought you’d never come home,” said Jud. “Thought her father would be back with more men to thrash you to death.”

“No one thrashed anyone,” spat Ross at Jud, who was giving Demelza a glare of contempt.

“So what happened, then?” asked Prudie.

“Mr. Carne was informed of the acceptance of his daughter’s offer of betrothal,” Ross retorted as a cryptic explanation.

“Betrothal?” chipped Prudie, “to who?”

“To me!” he beamed as he wrapped his arms around Demelza’s waist and kissed her on the cheek.

Demelza blushed at the display in front of Prudie and Jud, given that they both held her in such low esteem for not only supplanting their favored status, but besting them in all duties.

“What?” snarked Jud.

“Her?” hissed Prudie.

“Of course, her,” Ross shot back. “She will be the mistress of Nampara and you both will follow her orders as you do mine.” Ross Poldark was serious. Jud and Prudie knew it, but pushed back anyway.

“She’s not going to be the boss of me!” proclaimed Jud.

“Not me neither!” Prudie sputtered. “We both said she didn’t know her place, didn’t we Juddie?”

“ENOUGH!” boomed Ross. “You will treat my wife with due respect, or your other choice is to be terminated from my employ and to remove your things and be off my property by morning.” He glared. They both stared back, but said nothing more. “Then you had better be off to bed now as you will need to be witnesses tomorrow at the ceremony. I want you washed and dressed in your finest by half ten. Now off with you.”

Prudie and Jud sneered at Demelza and huffed and puffed as they followed Ross’s order to be off. Demelza turned as if to follow them.

“Not you!” Ross chuckled. “You are far more desired elsewhere,” he uttered lustfully as he drew her towards him, pulling her ear to his lips as he spoke. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her even more deeply. Demelza reached for his curls and ran her fingers through as they kissed. Then she stepped back.

“Begging your pardon, sir,” Demelza shook her head slightly, correcting her mistake, “Ross.” She wrinkled her nose and grinned. “Begging your pardon, but if this is to be the eve of our wedding, shouldn’t we both lay in our separate beds. If it is bad luck for the Groom to see the Bride before the wedding, I suppose any more than seeing would be disastrous.”

He smiled at her. Then let out a laugh. He hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head.

“If that is what my bride to be wants, then so be it. As you wish.” He kissed her hand and bowed as he backed out of the kitchen.

Demelza stood in the glow of the moment for a little, with her eyes closed and her lips pinched tight. When she opened them again, she sank to her knees. Garrick had snuck his way into the kitchen and immediately came to her side. She wrapped her arms around him and exhaled so deeply she thought she’d faint. “ _His bride to be_!” Never in her wildest dreams!

 

Ross sat up in his bed. `Twas their bed now. She had lain here just the night before. They finally lay together only after a night of passionate lovemaking that was to be only the first of a lifetime together. One night apart at her request was a reasonable thing to endure. But he was alone now, and wished that he wasn’t. He couldn’t sleep. So much had happened. So many terrible and wonderful things, all at the same time. He slipped out from under the coverlet and pulled on his britches and shirt. He pulled the suspenders up as he crept down the stairs. He went to the kitchen, “ _Just to gaze upon her as she slept_ ,” he said to himself.   He went to the kitchen, and before finding her in her bunk off to the side, he saw her and Garrick curled up on the rug in front of the fire.

“ _That dog is in my spot!_ ” Ross thought. “ _She agreed to marry me! This must have been her way of having one last night with that dog._ ” Ross knelt down and attempted to make space on the rug between Demelza and Garrick, so that he could curl up to her. The dog whimpered in his sleep as Ross shoved and pushed to maneuver the canine. Demelza rolled to her other side. Ross quickly slid in with his back to Demelza, positioning his head slightly lower than her face. Demelza stirred only slightly and wrapped her arm around Ross’s shoulder. He sighed with contentment and fell asleep right there.

Demelza awoke to see she was wedged between Ross and Garrick and smiled to herself. “ _It’s my wedding day and I have my groom and my best friend by my side_ ,” she thought. “ _It will be a good day_.” She carefully crept out from her middle slot on the rug and crossed the kitchen to the door outside. She quietly unlatched it and slipped out soundlessly. The door, however moaned as it shut. Ross rolled over to reach for Demelza, and ended up with a handful of fur.

That dog. That shaggy, dirty dog. Oh, how Demelza loved him. She had washed him and brushed him to rid him of the crawlers that Ross had told her all dogs had. He made the decision right then that as the dog made Demelza happy, he would never say another unkind thing about the dog. If Demelza was happy, Ross would be happy. That is how it would be. He could feel it. He had felt it before, but hadn’t been able to put his finger on it. Now he knew. All those times her laughter had made him feel whole was her happiness resulting in his happiness.

Rather than be discovered by Prudie or Jud on the kitchen rug with a dog, Ross got to his feet and left the kitchen. He went to his bed chamber and looked out the window, carefully avoiding quick motions to keep Demelza from catching sight of him. He looked down on the yard and saw that Demelza was in her underclothes. She had taken off her dress and had it airing on the line. She was washing her hair in the pump water and singing to herself. She was going to be clean for her own wedding. “ _Cold pump water! She should have a hot bath and other luxuries of being the woman of the house_ ,” he thought to himself.

Ross tucked back in his room and crossed the hallway to the library. He opened the lid of one chest and then another. There, on top, was the green satin gown. Demelza had replaced it where she had found it. Ross fingered the fabric and then closed the chest. He crossed back to his bed chamber and walked straight to a trunk in the corner. He opened the trunk to reveal his few shirts. He carefully lifted the top tray of the trunk out to expose another layer of clothing beneath. Placing the tray on the bed, he returned to kneel over the trunk. From here he pulled out a red dress and lacy petticoats, a pair of shoes and a ribbon. He layered the articles in the fashion of how they’d be worn. Dress atop petticoats, ribbon at the top, shoes at the bottom. He admired his handiwork.

The kitchen door moaned shut and Ross raced to the banister. “Demelza!” he called. She popped her head into the stairwell from around the corner.

“Yes, Sir? … Ross?” she slipped.

“Please come here, I have something to show you.” And he disappeared back into his bed chamber.

Demelza climbed the stairs, curious as to what brought such light to his eyes. “ _He was positively giddy_ ,” she thought. She pushed open the door that he had left ajar and saw from across the room the outfit laying like a vision on the bed. Ross sat at the foot of the bed next to the garments and beckoned her forward. She put her hand to cover her mouth and walked further into the room, slowly.

“They were my mothers,” he said. “As was the satin gown. I was only 12 when she died. Father could not bear to part with any of her things for quite a few years, until there was financial need to part with certain more valuable pieces.”

Demelza reached to touch the plush folds of fabric and the lace of the petticoats. She looked up at Ross who was beaming at her. “It would be a great honor to her memory if you would wear this for our wedding.”

Demelza felt her heart leap again. How could he keep finding new ways to make her ache and excite her at the same time? “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes, my sweet girl. You are to be my wife. A servant’s dress may be fine for cooking and cleaning, but not for marrying.”

Demelza smiled and hugged him. “Thank you! Thank you!” she gushed. Ross stroked the top of her head as she nuzzled into his neck. Her reaction sent a rush of joy to his heart. She was so grateful and easy to please.

Ross released her grip and lept to his feet. “Then it’s settled! You get ready and I will be back to retrieve you, Prudie and Jud. I need to ride to the parsonage to find the reverend and pray that he can perform the ceremony this afternoon.” Ross quickly kissed her and turned toward the door. He strode down the stairs two at a time and called back to her. “And Demelza, Garrick can come, too.”

She smiled. How could she be so lucky?

 

Ross returned at quarter past ten with a wagon pulled by two horses. “Your carriage my lady!” he called to her from the buckboard. Demelza clapped her hands in delight and ran from the porch.

“She’s no lady!” sneered Prudie from the side door.

“Prudie!” Ross hissed. “What did I say? Have your things packed, do you? No? Then enough!”

Ross led Demelza to the front of the wagon and helped her up in beside him. The dog scampered across the yard and jumped into the back. Prudie and Jud followed, struggling to hoist themselves into the back, facing backwards as they settled in for the ride.

They rode toward the little church of the village, the same church that had seen the marriage of Francis and Elizabeth almost a year ago and that of Jim and Jinny three months before. There had been nothing but pain for Ross at the former occasion. He could not see himself then being in any position to marry anyone ever after that. Aye, Jim and Jinny’s wedding was much different. Theirs was much more of a celebration of the couple than a ceremonial joining of two “proud” families who saw their children as puppets to be pulled by their strings. He knew he would only marry for love, and with Elizabeth the only woman who existed to him at that time now wed to his own cousin, he would not be looking to the vicar for his services.

Then she happened to him. The good and the bad, the brawl with her father, the way she knew what he wanted without him asking. She knew his moods. He had moods, by his own admission, something Elizabeth likely never saw, much less learned, as she only spent time with a smitten suitor and not a man forced to work his own land and provide his own sustenance. But Demelza knew Ross’s moods as she knew her own. She comforted him and left him alone when that was what his mood called for. And the mood at the wedding of Jim and Jinny had been one of rejoicing - in their love, and in Demelza’s happiness. That is when Ross knew. But how could he tell her? How could he let himself fall for his own servant? The maiden he rescued no less. The girl that the entire county believed had been in his bed for many months.

He cared not. He had no respect for the gossipers and the money hungry and the “gentle folk” who looked down upon the lower class as animals not fit to breathe their air. They were all just a matter of a few months of hard times away from the same troubles, yet they believe themselves invincible.

No matter, they were of no concern to him. He would have his home with his wife and his mine to work and his fields to reap. Ross stopped his line of thought - their home, their marriage, their land and mine. He was going to have to stop thinking of himself being alone in the world. He was no longer alone. And the proof rode at his side on their way to the church.


End file.
